From my middle seat in the back of the Mustang I could see clearly in the rearview mirror. Problem was, I wasn't there. It was the first time that I had experienced psychedelics. I was in Atlanta checking out the Hampton Grease Band for Phil Gernhard, my boss.
My friend, Gary Dobbins, had come along with me. His girlfriend, Peggy, was going to school in Atlanta and she had given us each a three way tab of psilocybin before we went to Piedmont Park to hear the band.
Well, to say that I saw plenty that day would be a wild understatement. I still see lots of things through the lens of that day. The mystery of not being here began, for me, that day in Atlanta.
The scientists may call it "energy" or "waves." I call it all love.
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